


Lapdog

by YsaX64



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: A little bit of praise kink for hubert as a treat, Animal Play, Collars, F/M, Femdom, Kink Meme, Leashes, Master/Pet, Muzzles, Praise Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-14
Updated: 2020-05-14
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:48:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24143104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YsaX64/pseuds/YsaX64
Summary: When malicious tongues call Hubert von Vestra "the Emperor's dog", they don't know how right they are.
Relationships: Edelgard von Hresvelg/Hubert von Vestra
Comments: 2
Kudos: 39
Collections: FE3H Kink Meme





	Lapdog

**Author's Note:**

> For the Kink Meme!
> 
> Prompt:  
> "Yes we all know everyone sees Hubert as Edelgard’s dog, but they don’t expect him to be on a leash. Whether he is wearing it in public or private, why he’s wearing it right now, if this is a common occurrence is all up to the author. Even though this is kink I prefer edelbert to be in an established relationship. They like each other and Hubert loves being owned! And Edelgard loves to be the person who makes him feel that way."
> 
> https://3houseskinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/476.html?thread=170460#cmt170460

When they are in public, he wears a necklace. Discreet, a thin chain of silver with an amethyst pendant. He leaves it exposed, for all to see. After all, it is not a matter of shame, but of privacy. Hubert knows what it is. Edelgard knows what it is. It is enough.

When they are alone, she treats him food, feeding him by hand, like a reward. She lets him rest on her lap as she reads. She pets him, carding her fingers through his hair as if he was her lapdog, a small animal whose only joy was being in her presence. In particularly trying days, he will sit at her feet, content with pets and nuzzling at her thigh. 

When she wants something more from him, she will touch his necklace when passing by and give him a time.

"Join me after your duties." A pause. "I have a surprise.”

Hubert shivers as her fingers toy with the cool silver chain, the flame behind her violet eyes the only thing that betrays her desire. 

At the given time, he is knocking on her door, quick, three swift taps and a fourth that never meets the wood as she opens the door. He enters her chambers like a phantom, not a soul nearby to know what they are about to do. Once he is inside, she locks the door with a click, leaving them alone together, no more Emperor and Minister but Edelgard and Hubert.

Edelgard chuckles, the secrecy of it all so enticing in its own way. 

"I take that you brought it with you."

In the half-light of the room, only lit by a few candles spread out and the moonlight that insisted in finding its way between the curtains, her hair looked particularly pale and otherworldly, as if he had been blessed with the apparition of a nymph, to take him and to use him. Hubert merely smirked in response, raising the leather collar in his hand.

"Do you take me for someone as distracted as to forget the main attraction?"

Answering him with an equal smirk, she raises an eyebrow, that feigned doubt gleaming behind her eyes. It only lasted a flick of a moment, before she broke into a half-laugh, amusement gleaming all over her expression. It was enough to make a rush of warmth spread on his chest.

"No, not really," she murmurs in response, taking a step closer as she took the collar from his hand, placing it on a nearby table. Then another step, settling her palms on his chest. At this point, her intentions are more than clear. 

As she curls her fingers, toying with the necklace, Hubert leans in, his hands on her waist.

"You seem very eager today."

His lips brush hers as he speaks, low rough whisper as she merely chuckles in response, dizzy hypnotizing giddiness. She tugs on the necklace slightly and he obeys the unspoken order, pulling her closer, pressing his lips to her.

The gesture starts chaste, but it's clear that she isn't in the mood for such gentleness. She presses harder, a bruising kiss to take possession of him, her tongue teasing his lips until he lets her in, pliant. Her nails dig on his shoulder, her other hand still firm on his necklace, pulling him down.

When they eventually part, Hubert finds that he is already breathless. Her eyes stare back at him, that wildness of it all clouding her vision. Hesitantly, she lets go of the necklace, tucking it back underneath his button-up white shirt. Once she takes a step back, picking up the collar again wordlessly and heading back deeper into her chambers, Hubert knows it is time.

He follows her silently, always a step behind, up until near her bed. A luxurious thing, purple covers and violet pillows, all the rarest and softest feathers for the mattress, all fitting for an Emperor. She sits on the edge, her hands on her knees, the collar innocently left beside her. A hint of a smirk plays on the corner of her mouth. 

"Sit." 

The command shifts the mood like a switch being flicked on. A shiver runs up Hubert's spine. Obedient as he is, he drops at her feet, sitting with his legs crossed, upright and ready. For a moment, they both stay still, appraising each other. Edelgard was wearing only a simple red dress, it was possible to see the black strap of the bra underneath. There was a faint smell of roses in the air, which he could only assume to be oil, carefully rubbed through pale skin, for him and him alone.

He swallows hard, her eyes stripping him down, observing him as one would do to a hound before a hunt. At a certain point, she leans in and he expects her to grab his jaw, check her dog's fangs. Even tilts his head to the side, closes his eyes, ready for the appraisal, but her hand finds his neck first. Brushes her fingers along the cords of his neck, caresses his Adam's apple with a thumb. He opens his eyes.

Leaning in, her expression was serious, her eyes squinted, but the way she bit her bottom lip briefly belied her excitement. Her hand slithered to the back of his neck, finding the clasp and undoing it without a thought, deft fingers catching the thin silvery chain. Only then she leans back and Hubert exhales, feeling the anticipation build, the pleasant warmth of the ritual itself. Ownership, through and through. Slowly, very slowly, she places the necklace on the nightstand, careful deft movement of hands. 

His breath hitches as she gets the collar in her hands again. It is a band of leather, handcrafted for him and for him alone, studded with beads of silver and adorned in steel. A heavy metal ring complements it, shining as it caught the glimmers of light remaining. The distant sounds of the castle, servants passing by, the rude clank of the soldiers' armors, all of it becomes an indistinct hum as the click of the collar's clasp fills the room. His eyes are tracked on it as she leans it.

Edelgard places it around Hubert's neck.

Scandalous, the Emperor's pet Minister. The thought makes him smirk, sinister and dangerous, but it's not his usual dark lilt. No, it's almost amused, almost feral, almost one too many things to define. 

The collar fits snugly around his neck. The leather rubs on his skin, the feeling of it is enough to make him shiver. She slides her forefinger under the band, tests the size, and Hubert can feel himself tremoring.

"Good?"

Her voice reaches to him through the haze as her finger hooks on the metal ring, keeping him still. Her face is close, close enough so that he can see the violet of her eyes engulfed by the dark of her pupils. He almost laughs, but doesn't. She knows it fits well. She knows him too well.

He only nods. From that moment onwards, he was a dog, not meant to talk. She follows with a chuckle, a dark lilt matching his own, and he can feel a pulse of arousal going through his veins. 

"Stay." The order comes firm, but with a hint of playfulness as her voice raises at the end. And so, amenable as he was, he stays perfectly still as she leans in, brushing her lips against his, barely a kiss, teasing him.

He can hear the sound of her fumbling with the nearby drawer and then the sound of metal catching on metal. A click later and she leans back and, in her hands, there is a long leash made out of black leather. It unfolds in her hand as she pulls back, her back upright, a smirk now fully formed on her lips.

"Stand."

The order is short and firm, her voice level. He gets up readily, head bowed. The leash is long but just enough to compensate for their height difference when she was sitting and he was standing. At first, he thought it had been a minor mistake during the crafting, but he soon noticed how Edelgard's smirk widened whenever he walked around with his head bowed, which soon indicated that it was fully intentional.

His musings, however, didn't last long as she soon changes her grip, handling the leash with her left hand. Her right hand, however, finds the lowest button of his shirt, unslots it with deft precision. Instead of going up along the buttons, her fingers slither underneath the shirt, sliding across his taut stomach. His breath hitched.

"Stay."

Her grip on the leash is firm and her hand explores his skin, warm and enticing, following along the sharp contours of his abdomen, tracing hipbone and the lines leading downwards. Edelgard lets out an appreciative murmur before pulling her hand back.

"Very good," she says, voice carrying just the faintest hint of strain. 

He nods, the go-to-response, submissive and appreciative all in one. His own responsiveness is so much. Too eager, too breathy. Still, if anything, it's clear that she finds it positive, giving his stomach a pat. 

This time, she gets up, leash in hand, prompting him to turn around as she makes him do a slow spin, showing off her most prized animal. Her hand finds the back of the collar and then continues downwards, all the way down to the small of his back. His breathing quickens, the sheer secret little pleasure of being evaluated by  _ her. _

She stops him once they are face-to-face, betraying no approval or disapproval, the leash wrapped around her fingers, a loose grip, but ready to tighten if needed. Her eyes go up and down along him until her expression finally breaks in a small smile.

"Excited already?"

She palms his cock through his trousers, half-hard and sensitive. He inhales sharply, the sudden jolt of sensation like a crack of a whip at his back, arching forward, into her touch. In response, Edelgard wraps her fingers around his cock, yanks the leash until he is bent downwards again, his cheek pressed against hers.

"Stay." Comes the dominant order, possessive in her power. 

Cruel, cruel play as she coldly tugs down his trousers, just enough to expose his cock, tugging, stroking, building up a crescendo until he was fully hard, whining against her hair, burying his nose in the crook of her neck. She smells of roses and sweat. Her hand fondles with his cock, his balls, squeezing just right on the edge of painful, his body thrumming, tense and tremulous. As it should.

He is hers, through and through.

He muffles little sounds that escape his throat against her, but she is so inviting, pale skin so delicious, that he cannot resist but drag his tongue along the cords of her neck, tasting the salt of her sweat. She tremors, lets out a small gasp and his heart swells with satisfaction, but it lasts little.

"Off," she barks the order, tucking his cock back into the constraints of his pants. Without a whine, Hubert steps back. Of course, he already had his win. Her face is tinged pink, eyes glassy and owlish as if she had just got lost in pleasure as well. Of course, Edelgard doesn't let her pet have his naughty satisfaction for too long.

"Disrobe," she demands, her eyes gleaming with a flare of possessiveness.

A smirk forms instantly on the corner of his lips, his heartbeat quickens, beating hard and fast on his chest. He starts off by the collar of the shirt, exposing his chest to the cold night air. His nipples stiffen and he can hear her breath catching. With a puffed-up feeling swelling in his chest, his hands slow down, fidgeting with buttons that he knows well, giving her time to process the image. The leash tugs, he stumbles forward, only to be caught by her hand pressed on his chest.

"Keep going," Edelgard now growls, as animal as he was in her dominance. Her fingers curl on his chest, the leash loosens, he pulls back dutifully, they start again. Now, he manages to get to the last button, finally taking off the shirt. 

His hands start working the clasps of his trousers, but she catches his wrists before he could. Edelgard doesn't need to issue an order for him to know. His eyes seek hers for reassurance, guidance. In a flick of self-consciousness, a thought about how much a collar can change one’s mindset begins to form, except that she halts it before it finishes, pushing his hands aside to grant her access to the full expanse of his chest. On her tiptoes, Edelgard places a kiss on the base of his neck, dragging her tongue across the dip of his collarbone, making his knees wobble.

"Stay," she husked, her breath hot against his skin. Dutiful, obedient, he stays in place, his arms quietly at his sides. Her hands then explore the expanse of his chest, her mouth drawing lower, quick and eager, placing a kiss on his pectoral before taking a small, stiff nipple in her mouth. This time, Hubert can’t stop a low groan, arching into her mouth. Her hands tighten her grip on him, keeping him still, but she maintained her stance, hot slick touch of tongue and teeth and lips. A pulse of arousal runs through his veins as she lets out a muffled groan, enjoying his body. 

When she pulls back, Edelgard takes two steps back, one hand lingering on his taut stomach as the other kept its loose grip on his leash. As much as he wishes to move, Hubert knows well enough to stay still, waiting for his next orders. Her breathing is heavy, he can’t help but notice, enough to bring another smirk to his face. She is pleased with him. Edelgard, however, seems to also notice it, for she quickly regains her composure, her eyes searching his once again. 

“Down."

His smirk merely widens. And so he drops to his hands and knees before her, his head resting on her knee, looking up. From that angle, she looks even more glorious, her cheeks tinged pink, her hair draped over her shoulders. The leash in her hand makes her even more commanding, glorious, as she kept a firm hold as to maintain his head tilted up. Her thighs smell of rose oil and sex. Hubert nuzzles his cheek on her knee, her breath hitches, and he knows that he shouldn’t, but even then he places a kiss on the inside of her thigh, if only for a moment–

The leash yanks his head up, he lets out a half-choked sound as his gaze snaps up, his eyes meeting hers with feigned sheepishness. The other end of the leather leash is winded around her wrist, making it even harder for him to look down. Of course, she is seemingly unfazed, even if her lips are parted so invitingly, her cheeks a pretty shade of pink. 

“You are not allowed to do this yet.”

Hubert’s traitorous heart leaped at the very sound of that  _ yet _ . His cock strained his pants, arousal coiling deep at his lower stomach. 

“Heel.”

She turns around, and he goes along, pulled by the leash. Edelgard sits at the edge of the bed again and Hubert follows suit, sitting on his ankles, one hand on her foot, his head resting on the inside of her knee. He looks up, shameless unabashed eagerness that he would’ve otherwise denied himself, but it emerged there, hard and animal, want that he couldn’t deny. And neither could she, he knew, he knew by the way she stared back at him with cloudy eyes, the haze of arousal coiled deep. 

She lets out a puff of laughter, her free hand reaching out for him, carding her fingers through his hair. The soft caress unleashes a wave of pleasure through him pulsing in his blood, deep animal instinct of affection, and he leans into her touch, his throat letting out a low, pleased hum. 

“I can’t stay mad at you, can I?” Her voice is softer now, a low caress for his ears alone. She shakes her head, feigned disappointment lined with a hint of playfulness. “But we cannot simply reinforce your bad behavior, can we?”

Hubert raises an eyebrow.

“No, we cannot,” she answers her own question. “But you can do something good to compensate.”

Her hand pulls back and Hubert lets out a soft whine. The protest, however, is short-lived, as her hands go directly to the hem of her dress, pulling up to reveal a set of black lingerie. The garment is tossed aside, forgotten, but it gives Hubert enough time to appreciate her form, the curve of her hips, the swell of her breasts. 

“Now, now.” The hint of playfulness turned into a full-fledged giddy chuckle as she tapped her thighs. “Up.”

He didn't hesitate. Soon, his hands were on her thighs, up, gripping. He says no more, letting the spark crackling between them to guide her. Edelgard, in response, caresses his cheek, as one would do to a dear pet.

“What a good boy. Come on. Come and please me."

He doesn’t need to be invited twice. His mouth soon is in hers, forceful and eager, wanton in ways he never is, continuous desire flowing between them. A bruising kiss, to take, his tongue teasing her lips before delving in, exploring, the tips meeting with a sizzle that went all the way down to his toes. He groans, she does too, and then he is on top of her, on his fours, his knees brushing her sides. 

Her hand cards on his hair, fingers tight, nails digging on his scalp. When he pulls back, he can’t help but growl, full animal instinctive greed. He kisses her cheek, the line of her jaw, she sighs, he keeps going down to her pulse point. Her neck is warm, blood running close to skin, he scrapes his teeth, tests it, her breath hitches. The leash jerks, but it’s not a reprimand. 

_ More.  _

He is keen to comply, biting the fine skin of her neck, delicious pulsing flesh under fangs. He moves down, delighted, half-delirious in their playful theater, the Emperor's pet Minister always eager and dutiful.

He chuckles against her skin, nibbling, sucking on her collarbone. 

"Good boy." The encouragement is more than welcome, words taking their full effect as he finds himself growing wilder and wilder, full animal creature of instinct. "You are doing so well. I knew you could do it so well."

Drunk in delirium. He finds her bra, dark lace covering her breasts, a hint of a stiff nipple poking out ever so invitingly. Her chest expands in great weaves as she pants. A dark thought crosses his mind. Hubert stops, pulls back. Edelgard stills too, her grip on the leash loosens giving him enough space to tear off her if he wished to. A moment of confusion passes, but she is quick-thinking, leaning towards him.

"What is it?"

His lips curl up in a smirk, not resisting anymore. He paws at the front clasp of her bra, tilts his head to the side. Her look of confusion soon melts to amusement, her raised eyebrows slowly drawing together. As if reading his mind, her hands find the clasp, undoing it swiftly. 

The fabric comes off easily. Soft skin, pinkish nipples stiff already, begging for touch, a trickle of sweat running down between the two mounds. The constraint of his pants was feeling more and more urgent, the need for relief almost unbearable as every rustle of fabric was already impossible to ignore.

But, ah, the tight leather of the collar, rubbing against his skin, it was there to remind him. He couldn't. Not right there, no. He was her pet right there, to please her and to obey her every whim. 

So he lowers his face, kissing the tender skin between her breasts, nuzzling his cheek. The quick gasp that follows is more than enough encouragement, and so he groans, nibbles, dragging his tongue. His mouth finds one of her nipples and Edelgard murmurs a  _ yes _ , barely audible, hushed between quickened breaths and it is more than enough.

His knees slide on the sheets as he tries for a new position, leaning on his forearms. There is a calculated madness in his movements, leading downwards, following the line that bisected her body. Her hand knots on his hair, but the leash is loose, her breaths are deep, and he knows he can continue.

Hubert slides to the floor again, sitting on his ankles between her parted legs. His heart races, a thin sheen of sweat coating his body. Even so, his eyes are focused on her, as she props herself up on her elbows, eyes owlish as she stares back at him.

His lips curl up in a smirk. To make his intentions even more clear, he nuzzles on her legs, placing featherlike kisses, eyes focused on her underwear. When she gives him no reinforcement or reprimand, her expression blank, he takes a chance, biting gently the tender skin of her inner thigh. Edelgard maintains her seriousness, her steely resolve making itself clear.

Very well.

He trails further between her thighs, the scent of sex and roses invading his senses. Dizzy, hypnotizing. Once he is close enough, Hubert doesn't even need to look at her to know that she tilted back her head in pleasure, all thoughts of punishing her good puppy forgotten.

Of course, Hubert knows how to play their game.

He pulls back, his hands back dutifully on his thighs. The sudden change of movement is enough to alert her, her head snapping forward to meet his eyes, annoyance written all over her sneer. Her naughty little pet devotee refusing to cooperate out of sheer mischievousness. Once again, Hubert tilts his head to the side, blinking slowly as he caresses between her legs with his knuckles, the soft feeling of wet satin pleasant to touch.

She shivers beneath his fingers. 

With only a low grunt of frustration as her answer, Edelgard hooks her thumbs on the underwear, yanking it down unceremoniously. 

"Come on," she hisses, impatience leaking through her voice. "Take it."

Is it an order or a plea? It doesn't matter in the end, but he grins anyway. His cheekbone slides against her inner thigh, he breathes in the scent of her, seeking her. He places a trail of kisses, slow now, savoring the taste of her skin.

When he is nearer, a dark thought crosses his mind. Hubert smiles against her skin and looks up, nuzzling his cheek on the tender skin of her inner thigh. Her smoldering violet eyes were pure satisfaction, molten and poured directly in his veins. Time seems to slow down as she puts a hand on the back of his head, carding her fingers, a little gesture of fondness, contrasting so sharply with the look of undiluted desire that she gave him.

"You know, this act of yours is more like a cat than a dog, but," Edelgard whispers, as if in a daze. "You could make me come just like this."

It's like something snaps, something fundamentally human that distinguishes the formal Minister of the Imperial household from the hound, the lapdog, the Emperor's pet. 

He starts kissing down her thigh again, more fervently, letting her feel every stroke of his tongue. When he finally gets to her cunt, she is already so very wet and warm, enough to drag a low noise out of his throat just because of the sheer delight of feeling her relax against his tongue. Panting, her fingers tight on his hair, keeping him in place. 

He doesn't hesitate to savor her, her taste, dragging his tongues along her folds. when she sighs, Hubert doesn't even need to look up to know that she is tilting her head back. He flicks his tongue at her clit, lapping – like a dog, the thought snaps uninvited in his head. He smirks against her and she must have felt it as well, her fingers draw lower, to the collar circling his neck.

The gesture speaks more than a thousand words.

_ Do my bidding. You belong to me. _

If nothing else, it riles him up even more, eager, curling his tongue if only to feel her thighs clamping the sides of his head. A low moan reaches his ears, followed by a high-pitched whimper, as if his mistress was trying so hard to control herself as to not pet her puppy's ego too much. Unfortunately, he knows her too well for such tricks.

He sucks at her clit, she stills, her body tightens as her noises grow from short and shallow to drawn-out moans, sheer delight and pleasure seeping through. It's relentless and there is a pleasure all of its own in being there, her toy to use and to fuck. The filthy word comes uninvited. Not the kind of word to be used for a couple's bed, but, perhaps, the kind of word fitting for a dog like him. 

As her body tenses under his tongue, riding her crescendo, pleasure building swollen and slick, Hubert dares to cast his eyes up. As he had suspected, her head is tilted back, making it impossible to see her expression, but still easy to notice how her neck was flushed, the cords of her throat salient, the trickle of sweat running down her heaving chest. In fact, she was leaning back entirely, the leash almost forgotten wrapped around her wrist, all of her focused on the pursuit of pleasure. 

Perfect.

When she tremors, her noises stop entirely for a moment. Her body tenses, the fingers buried in his hair tighten, pulling him away. And the separation of flesh from flesh is so cruel. A low whine escapes his throat, neck craned back far enough so he could observe her own restrained expression, eyes shut tight, eyebrows drawn together. So close and yet so far.

"Off." The order comes too late, almost an afterthought to guarantee that she had said it. His lips twitch with a repressed smirk.

Edelgard lets go of his hair, smoothing it down as she pulled back. When her eyelids fluttered open, he makes a point in licking his lips, to which she only spares him an indignant huff, much to his disappointment. At the same time, she seems to use the break to catch her breath, centering herself once again. Her expression once again a blank mask. Part of him expects her to continue to the play, to tease and to dominate. Instead, she drops the leash at his feet, draped uselessly over his thighs. Her eyes are like a starless sky as she speaks.

"Sit." A pause. "And stay."

He complies, sitting on his ankles wordlessly, head bowed in submission. Of course, the satisfaction stills shines through, enough to warrant a raised eyebrow from her. She pulls back her legs, getting up while avoiding any kind of touch. The only sounds Hubert can hear are the tap of her feet and the beat of his heart.

The drawer near the vanity opened. He knows that drawn-out squeak. She shuffles with something, various noises clicking and rustling. Then, a pause. That whiny squeak again. 

Hubert's heart beats faster, steady drum rising.

The steps start again. Closer and closer. She is walking slowly, he knows. He also knows when she is right behind him. Deep instinct. If it's the acknowledgment of one's master or primal prey drive, Hubert can't tell. Regardless, her hand finds the soft hair at the top of his head. Pets him, like one would do their most prized hound. When she grips his hair, he tilts his head back, pliant and obedient. 

She hovers over him, glorious and true.

"You know," she drawls, lips moving slowly as if every word had to be dragged out of the depths of her heart. "I said I had a surprise. Are you ready for it?"

Asking permission. He almost laughs. Hubert would follow her wherever she went. He was there to please her through and through. Even so, he understands why she does what she does. Hubert nods slightly, his eyes never leaving hers, no hesitation marring the gesture. She breathes easy now, her breasts swaying.

“Very well.”

The hand on his hair goes lower, all the way to back of his neck, gripping at the leather collar. He grunts but reacts no more. Waiting. As if knowing how to draw out his interest, Edelgard toys with the leather. A reminder of who he belongs to. The knot at the base of his cock grows tighter.

"See," she murmurs, it would have been barely audible had not every single one of his senses been focused on her. "You are a very good boy for me. You are truly special." 

A pause.

"However." This time she hisses, her mouth twisted in a dainty snarl. "I think it is about time that you get punished for your occasional bad behavior, don't you think?"

The thought is almost laughable. She would have done whatever she wanted to do to him even if he had been ultimately exemplar. That’s part of the theater. He is a bad boy who needs to get punished when she wants him to be and he is a good boy who gets all the rewards when she wants him to be. Part of the play, part of having a fickle master. That said, it still makes his cock throb. After all, it is part of what arouses him the most: to be at her mercy.

She lets go of his hair, his head back to its usual position: bowed. Still, when Edelgard dangles a certain toy right on his line of sight, it's enough to draw his attention.

Few owners muzzle their dogs. Lapdogs need no such things, as yapping is the best they can do. Hunting dogs double as guard dogs when they are not hunting, so it would be counterproductive. Still, when a particularly aggressive hound – one that is prized for its stamina and ferocity, but also feared by horses and humans alike – with more restrictive owners might have ended up muzzled. Hubert’s heart swells with pride.

In front of him, there is a leather muzzle, a custom piece that he can only assume was acquired from the same place where she got the collar. A set of four thick straps completed the piece, alongside shiny buckles of metal. The most unusual detail, however, was a pair of black dog ears, tanned leather covered with dark fur, which managed to be kept upright.

Her free hand grips his chin, forcing him to face her once again. This time, the blank expression fails her, the undeniable spark of desire shining through the dark of her eyes. A thumb strokes the line of his jaw, soft featherlike touch enough to make him shiver.

At a leisurely pace, giving him time to adjust to the new situation, Edelgard places the muzzle over his mouth, muffling whatever sound escaping his mouth. The straps go behind his head, tightening. It was thick and heavy, restraining just as he preferred. Hubert maintains his silence, neither of them saying anything as she adjusts the restraint around his head until it was firmly buckled up.

Once it was done, she catches the leash once again, winding it around her wrist.

"Up," she murmured, careful wariness filling her squinted eyes.

He obeys without a thought. Her eyes observed the muzzle, looking for any too tight spots that would otherwise bother him. When she found no imperfections, her focus shifted again, walking around him, every step with purpose. Sleek, catlike walk that he couldn't tear his eyes of. She was fully naked still, but that seemed to give her more power rather than leave her vulnerable, a sharp contrast to Hubert's situation, measured with violet eyes.

"All right?"

Oh, so much worry for her poor pet. Her thumb strokes the collar, caressing the leather as if just to remind herself of the play, of the theater. Instead of answering with proper words, Hubert lets out a chuckle, dark grave tone filling the night. It comes out clear enough to be distinctive, despite the muzzle. Edelgard spares him a small smile in response. 

“Disrobe.”

The smoothness of her voice is not as convincing as it was before, just a bit ragged, however, she doesn’t falter and neither does he. Very well then. He will play along. His hands undo the clasp of his trousers, pulling it down and letting it fall unceremoniously on the floor, kicking it off. She hummed a positive sound. Pleased with her pet.

Freed from the constraints of his pants, his cock is fully hard, a long swoop upward, darkly flushed as the tip pearled with pre-come. Sensitive and even her mere gaze seems to burn his skin, the pulsing too intense to ignore. Even still, Hubert put his arms behind his back, keeps his posture straight, his chin high. Her eyes follow all of his movements, but her neck lags, still tilted down as if there was something else she wanted to be looking at.

Instead of giving in to her urges, however, Edelgard slides three fingers under the leather of his collar and yanks it down, forcing his face down to her level. A muffled sound of protest is all but inaudible, barely going through the thick restraint of the muzzle. Her eyes are the only thing he can see – endless starless sky, dark and labyrinthine – as her free hand works his cock inexorably. 

Tugged, manipulated, thoroughly  _ used _ . When she touches him, it is not for his pleasure. It is for hers. And that, that much was enough to cause a jolt of excitement that sparked all the way down to his toes. It’s heat and it’s intense and it’s all he wants.

When she twists her wrist just right, teasing the head, Hubert doesn’t bother trying to muffle his own sounds anymore. He is louder than he's ever been, even though the muzzle – perhaps exactly because of the muzzle, that eternal contradiction of submission giving place to freedom. The pleasure builds, her pace relentlessly mechanical, but he consciously knows she won’t give it to him just yet, her eyes are daring him to resist, even still, it’s hard to avoid the rising tide, the waves of pleasure, his brow furrow, he groans, louder than one would think the muzzle would permit–

And she lets go, leaving him trembling and unfulfilled. 

This time, he growls, replete of frustration. If she is even vaguely amused by his display of aggressiveness, she doesn’t let it show. Instead, her smirk is filled with a certain, very particular brand of cruelty, and her only gesture is to lift the hand between his legs to his chest, caressing his pectoral before pinching a stiff nipple. His first thought is to have no reaction, give her nothing to work with, but his body betrays him, arching into her touch with a need he didn’t know he had. 

Edelgard catches his momentary weakness easily.

"Hm. You know, you are surprisingly hard to tame." She reaches for the muzzle, her fingers tracing the line of his jaw, covered in leather. “Hence the need for this. Although, now that I think about it, it looks nice on you, in general.”

Hubert lets out a puff through his nose. His feigned indignation is ignored, however. A shame. Instead of paying attention to his antics, Edelgard is more focused on taking two steps backwards until the back of her knees hits the bed. The leash is firm around her wrist as she gestures towards the bed with her chin. Without missing a beat, she clarifies her unspoken order.

“Down.”

Every step he takes towards the bed is another of reminder of his swollen erection, the rub of his thighs almost unbearable. But he does as she says, quiet and restrained, Hubert lies down on his back, head supported by the pillows, eyes unwavering.  _ Do it. Play with your pet.  _ He tries to say with his eyes what he couldn’t say with words, but her own eyes seemed unfocused, staring at the bare man laid in her bed with a gleam in her eyes that he couldn’t define as anything but grim wonder.

Her hand rubs his stomach, strange caress back and forth. A low chuckle vibrates in her throat before she gets in the bed and straddles his hips in one swift movement. It gives him no time to react, not that he planned on doing anything. She hovers over him, leash pulling him slightly, as if to just keep him permanently on his toes. He blinks slowly, observing as her expression mellowed down, the mask slipping. There is a softness in her eyes that wasn’t there before, one that he only catches in glimpses even after years of intimacy. 

When she presses her left hand against his abdomen, steadying herself, her other hand goes lower, wrapping her fingers around his cock to align it with her entrance. A low moan slips through the leather muzzle as the tip brushes her lips, slick, swollen, warm. The mask of mistress slips off again, she tilts her head back, exposing the fine cords of her neck as a sigh escapes her throat. Her silvery hair tumbles over one shoulder, catching the glimpses of pale moonlight. And he stays still, breathing heavily through his nose, his gaze focused on her expression as she slid down on his cock.

Her mouth skews, a fine terse line as she sunk on him, her walls pulsing gently around him. Her chin presses against her chest, but it's not exertion that twists her face, but that strange heat, shared between them. His hands find her hips, steadying her, almost a reflex. One would expect that his serious mistress would push him away, drawing the lines between pet and master. But she doesn't, Edelgard is too focused in sinking down on him until his cock is fully seated inside of her.

It's tight and it's warm and he can't help but toss his head back on the pillows, the sensation almost too much to bear. But Hubert doesn't tear his stare off her. He can't. There she is, there is a radiance in seeing her lost in pleasure, fully taking his cock. Using him.

When she blinks slowly, perhaps noticing how much the theater had slipped between her fingers, the leash tightens, tugs him forward. It forces him to lean forward, putting his weight on his forearms. She was panting, cheeks bright red as they stayed like that for a moment, locked in a stalemate. 

"You," she says precisely, her voice thrumming with tension. "You will stay still. I will..." Edelgard trails off, looking for the right word to say. "I will use you. I will be the one to take you and to fuck you."

If they had been bathed by the garish sunlight, eyed by ministers and chamberlains and servants, the filthy word would have been met with an inevitable reprimand, the instinct of a man trained to guide his Emperor. But, right there, amid darkness and moonlight and the smell of sex in the air, he can't help but smirk against the restraints, the leather digging hard on the back of his head.

A reminder indeed.

Her cheeks blush red, her eyes cast aside as if the word is too much for her tongue. Little absurd paradox. Hubert lets out a chuckle, bucking his hips up just to press harder against her. His provocation is met with a little gasp and her eyes snap back to him, brows furrowed and eyes squinting. Starless sky eyes, vast and pitiless. Perhaps she sees his attempted smirk in the lines of his eyes, perhaps she just knows. Regardless, the leash yanks forcing him forward as her nails dig on his lower abdomen, her hips grinding against his.

The sensation jolts across his body, a groan slips from lips uninvited. But she cares for none of it, pushes against him inexorably, seeking her own pleasure ever higher. His body thrum and tenses, that strange invasion of body and soul, taken through and through. 

Her pace is relentless, when she finds the angle that she likes, Edelgard doesn't stop, the muscles of her thighs tensing hard under his palms. His position is awkward, he falls back on the pillows with a huff, but it doesn't matter, in fact, he barely feels it, too focused on the heat coiling, pooling on his lower abdomen, too tight, too much.

He had been teased for long enough, the muzzle isn't enough to muffle the long drawn-out groan that escapes his lips. His fingers tightened on her thighs, her hips, he isn't sure anymore, his vision sparking with white dots. Her body  _ clenches _ around him, he tosses his head back, his entire body thrums–

"Not yet," she hisses and he obeys, unthinking.

Tries to catch his breath, to relax the muscles of his abdomen, but it's almost impossible, it's a tide, taking him away from the shore. The straps on the back of his head seem to tighten, even if he knows it’s only his own delusion. The leather is a reminder. He is hers. Her pace increases, losing rhythm but increasing intensity, the lascivious noise. It’s madness. Pure madness.

He grunts, louder, spilling off the muzzle. Her hips rocked against his, over and over and over again, the speckles of white tainting his vision. So close, but he couldn’t say anything, so he pressed her fingers on her thighs, trying to make it known. Edelgard’s eyes find his instantly, snapping back as an instant reaction. 

“Please,” she whispers, the word almost out of place considering the position they were in. “I’m  _ so _ close–”

A ragged moan stops whatever she was going to say next, her walls clenching around him, pulsing as her body tremors and falters, and she lets go of the leash, the leather all but forgotten draped over his abdomen. Permission. He grits his teeth, but she continues to bear down on him, and the pleasure builds, the continuous crescendo, tight heat pooling in his lower abdomen and the muzzle is _ definitely _ not enough to contain his moan–

It hits him like the crash of a wave, white dots peppering his vision like stars. His entire body tenses as he arches his back into her, spilling inside of her. The world blurs, the images mixing like fresh ink on a canvas. It takes a while for him to notice that she had dropped on top of his chest, her breath, hot puffs on the crook of his neck. 

They spend some time just like that, he isn’t sure how long, but his body turns down every suggestion of moving, his only reaction being pulling her closer with one arm, less of an embrace than an instinctual, post-coital reaction of affection. Until, of course, she twists her hips, separating their bodies, and her hands snake down the back of his head.

One, two, three clicks, before the final one unbuckles the muzzle completely and Hubert takes a deep breath, Edelgard rising alongside his chest. Only then he is able to look at her properly, her tousled hair and half-hazy eyes, and the sight is enough to bring a smile to his face. The switch is flicked off again.

“I take my performance was of your liking,” he gloats, unabashed and rough of voice. “It seems like your pet pleased you thoroughly.”

If eyes could shot daggers at him, hers would certainly have tried, perhaps not fully expecting to hit their mark. Nevertheless, the mock-threat doesn’t last long. Edelgard snickers, her mouth quirking upwards in a half-grin, but her hands are much more focused on the leash that got trapped between the two of them in the mess, untangling it as he lays quiet, still as if her orders were still in effect. 

Only then she unclasps it from his collar, sitting up with her thighs straddling his waist. Hubert lazily observes as her hands work quick, opening the drawer and placing both the muzzle and the leash back. Her preciseness slows down soon, once her hands move back to his collar. It’s enough to make her flinch, her fingers lingering too long on the band. His eyes dart back to hers. Something wrong? it’s hardly the first time they’ve played their game, but even still, the lingering dread gnaws deep inside Hubert’s heart.

When his eyes found hers, however, it’s clear that the lack of focus isn’t because of any discomfort. 

“You know, even though I don’t think I am truly cut out for this, it is rather interesting to see you like this.”

Her fingers slid down to the back of his neck, unfastening the collar with ease. There is a strange sort of relief in taking it off. Still, his attention is much more focused on the woman on top of him. 

“I can assure you, your performance was stellar, like it always is.” Comfort was never something he was well versed in, but Hubert could at least muster some honesty to back up his poor attempts. His thumb caressed her waist, tracing circles on her soft skin. In response, however, she merely sighed, shaking her head in apparent disappointment. Of course, the smile tugging the corner of her lips betrayed her.

“For someone who insists on playing as a dog, you truly have the disposition of a cat.”

“That’s the reason for the muzzle, I take.”

Her hands find the thin chain of silver. Once again, her fingers hesitate, but it’s brief, as if it was just the time for her to think of a response. 

“It seems to have terribly backfired.” The sharp remark comes softened by a positive hum as she gently held the necklace with her fingers. Understanding the sign, Hubert props himself up with his elbows, head bowed once again. The chain is cold against his skin, but the feeling that fills his chest is nothing but warmth. He acknowledges for a brief moment, as she clasps the ornament, that he is almost overtaken by the giddiness –  _ ownership, through and through –  _ but that doesn’t stop his next words.

“Indeed,” he relishes every next words, sweet like honey. “In fact, I plan on behaving even worse next time.”

Edelgard slaps his chest, playfulness marring any punishing intent the gesture might have had. He lets out a laugh, wheezed out because of disuse, but true nevertheless. Once her arms pull back, the pendant safe around his neck, Hubert wraps his arms around her waist, she yelps, but it doesn’t stop him from easing her on her back, hovering over her, the pendant moving back and forth like a pendulum between them.

“You are terrible. A brat.” Perhaps she attempted to maintain an edge of seriousness, but the smile escaped her tight grip this time, full grin dancing on her lips, her palms steady on his chest. Grounding.

He leans in, her lips brushing hers.

“If you will allow me an educated guess, I believe you enjoy my ‘brattiness’ as much as I do. I am, after all,  _ your  _ pet.”

**Author's Note:**

> And there you go! This was a bit of an experimental thing and it ended up being a lot of fun. Hubert enjoys way too much being her toy.  
> Kudos/Comments/Feedback are always appreciated!!!


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